


Home

by pyropar



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Prophecy, CW: dog attack, Established Relationship, Family, Family Dinners, Family Dynamics, M/M, Minor Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Aranea Highwind, aranea is prompto's sister and cor is their dad, nothing bad happens to either parties tho, the others are there for a few moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-29 22:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19028887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropar/pseuds/pyropar
Summary: Ignis meets his boyfriend Prompto’s family for the first time, and it goes as terribly as it could—or so he thinks.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> originally my second gift for [agitatedstates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agitatedstates) for the ffxv valentines exchange on twitter! another take on the "family au" prompt i was given :-)
> 
> just something short and sweet and different from other stuff i've done. thank you so much to my dear friends for helping me with the prompt and reading it over again and again for me!

It was nerve-wracking. Daunting. The great wooden door to Prompto’s house seemed to beckon him with a challenge, a sort of taunt…Ignis cleared his already dry throat for the hundredth time today.

“C’mon,” Prompto had said to him one day on a date, hand holding his, as they watched the early autumn leaves fall in spirals all around them. “My family will love you.”

Ignis was hesitant then, in that quiet deserted park where it felt like it was only them inhabiting the entire world. He had fallen silent, brows burrowed in thought. Even Prompto’s puppy-eyed gaze nearly didn’t work. 

Of course he wanted to meet his boyfriend’s family…but similar to before Prompto assured him he had felt the same months ago, there was a near identical underlying thought that laid heavy in his mind—the thought that he would not be enough.

The following days he repeatedly entertained the possibility of meeting his family. And on that week’s Friday night, clustered with his friends around a table covered in a mountain of food at a cramped karaoke booth, the very doubt still on his mind was voiced aloud midst a break of songs.

“You should, Iggy,” Noctis immediately agreed the moment Prompto brought up the discussion they had in that park, the end of a fry sticking out from his mouth. “Like, you have to meet the in-laws sooner or later.”

“Aranea’s fond of you already, since you treat him right,” Luna added from his side, flipping through the songbook with aid from the flashlight on her phone. “And Cor was very nice to me when she first brought me home. It shouldn’t be something to even doubt—just do it.”

It must’ve been easy for her to say. She’d been dating Prompto’s older sister for years, longer than she had even lived in Insomnia. She was already accepted as part of the Leonis family—proved by how she was on a first name basis with their father and _engaged_ to be married.

Ignis did not have the advantage of slowly soaking in with time. He and Prompto had only been dating for a few months shy of a full year, and he was sure his boyfriend had never brought it up to his father; Marshal Leonis never spared him a glance unneeded at Citadel meetings or when passing him in halls. Ignis loathed what glares he’d have to endure once the Marshal learnt someone on equal professional ground was _dating_ his son.

He dissipated his all of his friends’ burning gazes with a firm shake of his head. “No,” he said. “I cannot spare the time.” Sure to make Noct’s grimace to his words not go unnoticed by returning a sharp look of his own, he pushed up his glasses, solidifying his choice. “I have my work and _someone_ to look after—”

Gladio, who was sat right next to him, then decided the middle of that sentence was a good time to knock the wind out of his chest with a mighty clap—right in the middle of his shoulder blades. Even three days later Ignis could still feel the ghost of an imprint. “I’ll keep him company,” Gladio had said over his spluttering, rubbing his back firmly. “C’mon, Iggy. Everyone goes through that first awkward meeting with the love of their life’s parents. It’s the human experience, don’t be embarrassed. Just join the club.”

He couldn’t even react to that _love of your life_ comment before Noctis added onto the list of excuses. “Specs, I know you have nothing scheduled on Monday,” Noct tilted his head with a hint of a smile that clearly embodied smugness, barely visible in the dimmed room. “No excuses, nuh-uh.”

With his friends’ expectations and Prompto’s arm wrapped around his, the subtle lights of every colour dancing over his softened and hopeful expression, Ignis knew there was no other choice he could—would—choose.

Hours later, when his friends went their separate ways and retired home, he brought it up again on their daily late night call. But this time, lying alone in his small apartment with Prompto’s voice pressed against his ear, he agreed with bated breath.

And yet now, stood on the sidewalk only steps away from his boyfriend’s house, there was a lump in Ignis’s throat.

The November winds had seeped deep into his leather jacket, into his sweater vest and the thin button-up shirt underneath. There were goosebumps on his skin, crawling down his shoulders and arms as he looked up to the seemingly massive wooden door.

He and Prompto had been officially together for only ten months and a week. He lowered his head, doubts once again settling in. Was it too early? Would his father disapprove? Would he be ordered to not ever see his son again?

Thoughts like these—they were unlike him. Letting the anxiety manifest was not of the controlled, sensible man he liked to think himself of. But even though he wanted to turn back, he had come all this way, and he knew how much this would mean to Prompto. 

And with another breath, he let that practiced calm wash over him before pressing Prompto’s palm against his. This would be the first impression of his _highly probable_ future in-laws—he wouldn’t let it be a bad one.

He smoothed the skin on the back of Prompto’s hand; a gesture that often calmed both of them. “Shall we?” he asked.

Prompto smiled, the tip of his nose and his cheeks flushed from the winds, the end of his red plaid scarf flowing in it. The anxieties now quelled, they took a step forward together—

But then the door swung open with a grating squeak, cutting their step short. Ignis near strained his neck by whipping up his head towards it. There, leant against the doorframe—

The first obstacle of the day: the older sister. Aranea.

She was a good number of years older than Prompto, one of the youngest generals in the Crownsguard, and mighty skilled with a lance. Ignis was lucky enough to have fought against her once when he was fifteen years old, as he was learning to handle his own. She’d left him splattered on the floor.

To put it shortly, Ignis was terrified of her.

She had her grey hair tied in a high bun and a loose red shirt knotted around her waist, dark leggings, and a black sports bra. She’d obviously just arrived home from an intense workout; sweat was still dripping down her bare shoulders. Her face was flushed, green eyes bright and attentive. She was every bit as terrifying as Ignis remembered her to be—if not more.

“Hey, loser.” Aranea did a survey of his outfit, eyes darting up and down. The back of Ignis’s neck prickled; she had that gaze that could turn someone to stone. She met Prompto’s eyes and motioned to Ignis with a quick nod. “Is this one of your professors?”

Ignis cleared his throat _again_ as he held back a painful wince, using all his will to keep his face straight and inoffensive. It was the thick sweater vest over the button up paired with his thin-framed glasses that gave her that impression, he fully knew—but in his defence, Prompto said his outfit looked perfect.

“I’m not,” Ignis had said, but she didn't spare nary a glance at his direction, the words eliciting no reaction at all. Just her eyebrows arched high at her brother, wanting answers to every question piling up in her mind.

She didn’t even know who he was. Perhaps Lunafreya was wrong about her fondness towards him…he exhaled a breath. This was already off to a terrible start, and he didn’t want to make it even worse.

After what felt like an eternity, Prompto laughed and waved her words off. “No, he’s not,” he said, squeezing Ignis’s hand. “C’mon, you know who this is! This is…y’know.” He nestled his cheek on Ignis’s shoulder, smile blooming on his face. “Y’know?”

“Ah,” she remarked, the edge of her lips twisting up in a smirk. Playing along. Was her coldness only an act…? “Mister _Brother-fucker_.”

“Nea!” Prompto pouted. He hugged Ignis even closer, as if protecting him from her. “C’mon, don’t be mean.” And then his eyes narrowed, suddenly stealing that smirk right from her face. “I never teased you when you first brought Luna home.”

Aranea’s eyes widened in a span of a second, her cheeks now matching the shade of her shirt around her waist. “Okay,” she muttered, straightening up quick and dusting off her shoulder. “Okay, fine. I’ll leave you two alone. I’m going upstairs.”

Prompto stuck his tongue out at her as she departed, and looking behind, she did the same.

The entire exchange, the flip-flopping of emotions in a blink of an eye…it left Ignis speechless. For all his education, his experiences, he would never truly understand siblings.

“By the way,” Aranea called out from the foot of the stairs, the tips of her grey hair sweeping above her shoulder as she tilted her head back. “Hope your _boyfriend_ has fun with Chibi.”

That dread that Ignis thought had settled down resurfaced, rising up his throat as he took a sharp breath in. _Chibi._ He’d completely forgotten about her. Hopefully she was in her usual deep sleep right now or staying with Luna and Umbra, hopefully not waiting behind the door to ambush him and try to separate his legs from his torso once again. He never knew when she would succeed.

The tight grip around his arm loosened and Prompto slipped his hand back into his, rubbing Ignis’s thumb against clammy skin. It was enough to bring his mind back to the present. “C’mon,” Prompto whispered to him. “Let’s go in before we freeze to death.” He pressed a light kiss against his cheek before tugging him up the steps.

Ignis had been in his house once, a month before, fortunately without his family including Chibi home. He’d only seen it in the dark, fumbling around furniture and up the stairs, narrowly missing Prompto’s father returning an hour later.

But Prompto flipped on the lights now, shutting the door tight. The winds now absent and the area silent, he splayed his arms across the small entryway just as wide as he grinned. “Welcome to House Prompto!”

Ignis did a quick survey of everything now illuminated. He looked over the entryway, the stairs right across it, the wide living room opening close to it. Looked over the peak of all the couches gathered around a small coffee table, covered with fleece sheets and pillows and stuffed animals. There was a plush toy he spotted that he won for Prompto nestled in between two bright blankets; it brought a smile to his face.

And…there were tons of pictures and medals on the walls, near the stairs, all bathed in the warm light from overhead. He spotted multiple professional variations of Aranea and Prompto, a tiny Chibi and Chibi as she was now, their father, pictures both individually and together. There were Prompto’s own pictures hung up between them—skies and sunflowers giving great contrast to the pictures of his family.

His real family were nowhere to be found right now, thankfully.

Ignis’s gaze moved back onto his boyfriend, whose arms were still spread wide. “House Prompto, hmm?” he remarked with a smug tilt of his head. The nervousness he had felt before was winding down, now that he was inside and warm and alone with the person he trusted most. “Wouldn’t it be House Leonis, technically?”

“I was trying to be cool,” Prompto shrugged off his scarf and coat, tossing them without a care onto a spare dresser aside by the door. He blew his tongue at him as he fixed his wrinkled sweater; worn and yellow, bright over his black denim trousers. “Nerd.”

Ignis shed his leather jacket and set his shoes next to Prompto’s, stepping up the foundation and following him into the labyrinth that was his living room.

Prompto’s house was on the small side. The furniture was all pushed together and the edges bumped into his knees and toes, but Ignis loved everything about it. It was the opposite of his apartment—he had only the essentials, nothing personal, no pictures or anything sentimental. He couldn’t even recall the last time he saw his parents, much less be alone in the same room as them.

Prompto was already on his couch, the chocobo plushie Ignis got him pulled onto his lap as he kicked his feet up on the side. “So, what do you think about your… _first_ visit here?” He stressed the word _first_ , stretching out the syllables in a sultry voice, winking at him.

It pushed yet another smile onto Ignis’s lips; Prompto often gave him that inclination. He joined him on the sofa, their shoulders rubbing together as he settled in. “It is definitely homey.”

Prompto immediately laid his head on his lap, exhaling a warm sigh. He fumbled around for his boyfriend’s hand and threaded his fingers with his, dragging them across his skin the way they each loved. Nestled between his boyfriend and sunk in this over-plushed seat, it only made him feel more cozy, feel like _home_.

And…it was too early to think about this, he knew, but…he wouldn’t mind if this was his forever.

Ignis knew he wanted to marry him; he wouldn’t have ever said yes on that day if he didn’t see a long-term future between them. Prompto knew this well and joked about it constantly, about Ignis being such a romantic that no one would’ve guessed was under his strict, seemingly cold demeanour. He would teasingly pride himself on being the only person that could make him blush, on being the only one who could undo the great Ignis Scientia with a simple kiss.

There were nights he would stay over his apartment while Ignis was working on ‘boring paperwork’ (as Prompto would whine—there was always _something else_ he wanted to do) and they’d spend hours talking about how life would be like, if they moved in together. If they truly got engaged. They knew that they both had to tackle college and officially finishing up Crownsguard training first…but when the time would eventually come, what then?

At least, with tonight, Ignis would have a bit of closure with a question he was constantly asking—if he was compatible with his family.

“My dad’s gonna be here in around an hour for dinner,” Prompto said to him, pressing a kiss to Ignis’s knuckles. “What do you wanna do?”

“Anything,” Ignis answered. He exhaled—and with it, all his previous tension. Today would go right from now on; he was with Prompto, and he always brought him stability even the most tense of situations. “It’s your home, your choice.”

He didn’t see it, but Prompto’s face perked up. “Anything?”

“I said so, didn’t I?” Ignis said, combing loose blond strands out of his boyfriend’s eyes—then it hit, and his hand froze. What had he just done? They were (sort of) alone in his home, which had a _bed,_ and his boyfriend was a _Scorpio._ “Prompto—”

“No take backs,” Prompto sat up, pressing a finger to his lips. He lifted up a knee and slid it across his lap, settling down to straddle him. He brought his hands up to Ignis’s torso, setting them on his sweater vest as he planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. “You just gave me the power.”

But instead of doing anything rash as Ignis expected, Prompto simply pressed his forehead on his, eyelashes brushing against the lenses of his glasses. Ignis could see the brilliant light indigo of his eyes up close, boring into his. 

It was a silent ten seconds of only staring, and then Prompto couldn’t hold back anymore—he cracked a laugh. “Y’know,” he said, arms nestling around Ignis’s waist, putting his cheek on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck as he spoke. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Ignis smoothed the back of Prompto’s hair. “But at least—” he started, but cut himself off with a sharp gasp as Prompto pressed his tongue against his pulse point, trailing quick kisses on his jaw. “At least have the tact to kiss me in your room,” Ignis managed out in a single breath, “behind closed doors—”

He should’ve known it wouldn’t have done anything to deter him. Prompto pressed another kiss on his neck, whispering low. “No one’s here.”

“Your sister, and…”

That sentence and thought was stopped right in its tracks as Ignis met eyes with someone— _something_ standing in the kitchen doorway. He froze, going completely tense under Prompto’s touch.

“And…?” Prompto blinked, feeling his sudden pause. “Are you okay?” He pulled his lips away, following Ignis’s sightline and turning back to see whatever was taking his attention.

The second obstacle of the day, and the one he was most frightened of: Chibi.

A puppy Prompto had found wandering the streets years ago, with an unfortunate and unexplainable grudge held against Ignis. Whenever she set her sights on him it was like a trigger flicked—and then the only thing she could do unless forcefully stopped was try to end his life.

Despite the cooling November weather, a bead of sweat slid down Ignis’s temple.

He felt Prompto jolt up in alert once he spotted his dog’s signature white and cream fur. “Oh, Chibi!” he called out, pushing up from Ignis’s lap and towards his (now old) puppy in the kitchen archway. There was a wide beam on his face as he knelt, beckoning Chibi into his held out arms. “I was wondering if you were here!”

Chibi, as on cue, lunged for Ignis with those vicious fangs the moment Prompto let his guard down.

The last thing Ignis recalled before the blur of action was the blood rushing to his head. He would’ve never even considered this if this weren’t a situation of life and death, but…this was as close to death he had ever been. Throwing those instilled manners and tact out of mind, he gripped the back of Prompto’s sofa and flipped himself over it, landing on the wooden floor with a big bang.

“Chibi!” he heard Prompto yelling from behind it. “Chibi, come here!”

At least now Chibi didn’t have direct sight of him; Ignis allowed himself to breathe a bit and adjusted his glasses back into place. He crouched, taking small steps to the edge of the back of the sofa for a vantage point to find better shelter.

He could hear furniture creaking and squeaking, Chibi’s barking, Prompto’s loud footsteps and him yelling over all the commotion. There wasn’t much time.

The kitchen didn’t have a door, so that wasn’t a viable option…the exit to the garage was a short distance away, but there was the risk of losing Chibi in the neighbourhood and being run over by Prompto’s dad if he decided to arrive early. Think, think—he couldn’t jump up on the dining table to save his legs (even if he despised doing such a thing, Chibi was relentless), nor was any other furniture high and stable enough to hold him—

“Hey!” Prompto yelled from in front of the couch. It snapped him from his tactical stupor. “Hey—hey! Ignis, she’s coming for you!”

Time was up. _Damn._ Ignis knew what was left, what he had to do next.

He ran.

Chibi was snapping at his ankles as he tried to dodge his boyfriend’s family’s choice to have their furniture as close knit as they were, banging his knees and shins in the process. His socks skidded across the polished wooden floor once he got out of the living room and into the main hall, gripping onto the rails fashioned to the stairs like it was his last lifeline.

His footsteps thudded as he dashed up the steps, the cluster of pictures hung on the walls trembling in the rhythm. He could feel Chibi’s barking ringing deep in his soul, only a step or two below him, hear Prompto’s yells at the foot of the stairs drowning out in all the commotion. 

Chibi was so close; he could almost feel the warmth of her breath and the spray of her slobber on his heels. Prompto’s door was only steps away, closer, closer—he grabbed the handle with his clammy, sweaty hands, and twisted.

He slammed the door tight, sound reverberating through the walls of the house. Chibi was gone; he was safe. The relieved breath he exhaled shuddered him to his core.

There was a single sharp bark from Chibi as Prompto lifted her up, and the next thing he heard was a door being swung open. He heard Aranea trying to hold back a laugh as Prompto pleaded with her to keep her in her room for the day. He could hear them make a very unfair compromise as he passed Chibi into her arms, dog tag ringing in the hall.

Then her door was shut, and he heard Prompto take footsteps towards him. “Ignis?” he knocked on the door to his bedroom. “Are you still in there?”

Now that the threat was gone, Ignis pried open the door, letting the hallway light in and peeking at Prompto through his lenses.

The sight of his boyfriend all flushed and disheveled widened the grin on Prompto’s face. “C’mon, nerd. Make some room.” He poked Ignis’s cheek, stepping in and nestling in beside him. “Aw, you didn’t even turn on the lights.” And with a flip of a switch, light filled his bedroom.

It was exactly like Ignis remembered in the dark: all bright colours, an abundance of pillows, messy and cozy. It was small, sure, but Prompto had made it his.

There were tons of tiny trinkets scattered around and the walls were covered in posters and photographs; enough photographs that he had to hang strings across the room to display some more. They were not the editorial types framed downstairs near the entryway—these were much more reflective of who Prompto was. Pictures of random dogs he’d met while taking his daily jogs, slightly out of focus and blurry landscapes, oceans, mountains, street lights and empty roads. 

But the subjects that took the abundance of his space were his friends.

There was Gladio, Noctis, Luna, Aranea, all scattered in hundreds of pictures, filling in those empty images of landscapes with context. Luna with her wide-brimmed white sun hat tight in her grip as the ocean wind blew her blond hair wild; Noctis in that very same setting, padded up with his fishing jacket and reeling up his fishing pole; Gladio crouched with a backpack as big as him on his shoulders in the mountains of Duscae, setting up a tent for his friends; Aranea in midst of training high up in the air with her wooden lance.

Ignis hadn’t even touched on the selfies or the hundred pictures of him, all plastered on the wall closest to his bed and desk.

There was one he saw back when they first started dating in January, of him looking bewildered as Prompto pressed a kiss on his cheek. There was one that Noctis took of them looking to the sunrise on a cold winter day, hands held, backs to the camera. One of their hands held together on a date, wafting steam of cups of coffee and tea next to them.

A thought drifted to the front of Ignis’s mind. If they spent the rest of their lives together, moving in with each other, perhaps he would see these pictures everyday. They’d be hung up by the stairs and he’d see them before he left for work, the memories never ever fading.

It would truly feel like a home.

“Sorry about that,” Prompto shut the door, straightened his clothes out and brushed dog fur from his sweater. “I forgot that she hated you for some reason. She’s always so nice to Luna and everyone else, y’know?” He slipped an arm around Ignis’s waist, pressing his face fully into his chest, breathing in his scent. “You good now, Iggy?”

Ignis’s rapid heartbeat had slowed to its regular pace…well, as regular as it could be with Prompto so close to him. He returned the hug with a smile reserved only for Prompto, pressing a kiss on top of his head full of fluff. “Indeed.”

That hand on his waist—it slowly lowered to the small of his back. “You…up for continuing?” Prompto winked.

The smile fell. “And have either your sister or father walk in? I think not.”

Prompto let him go with a laugh, diving into his mass of blankets on his bed. Ignis eased onto the mattress next to him, careful not to disturb; but the hand he rested beside him was promptly grabbed and pulled. “C’mon,” Prompto said, and with little struggle Ignis fell right onto him, tangling in the sheets.

The chill of November was long forgotten once he settled, laid down under a heap of fleece and cotton, Prompto’s arms snug around him. He let the sound of his boyfriend’s breathing soothe all the anxieties and worries of today as he finally let himself relax—for good.

There were small fairy lights twinkling at Prompto’s headboard, and those were the last things Ignis saw before he allowed his eyelids to fall closed. He didn’t even consider the reaction Prompto’s dad would have should he walk in to see them snuggling, but to be frank: he didn’t care anymore. 

He threaded his hand through Prompto’s blond hair as he folded his glasses with his other hand and set them aside, pressing kisses and kisses on the top of his head. 

“Hey, Iggy?” Prompto whispered into his shoulder, lips brushing his thin button-up shirt and the edge of his sweater vest. “You’re still going to marry me after this, right?”

“Hmm?” He brushed away a bang that covered Prompto’s eyes. The question didn’t stun him—it was a regular topic of theirs. “Of course I would,” he assured him with another forehead kiss. “What’s the matter?”

Prompto lowered his gaze, showing perhaps his first display of weakness the entire day. “Sometimes I kinda worry if my family is too much for you,” he admitted, eyes fixated on Ignis’s knuckles, rubbing them over and over and over. “I mean, I practically forced you to come over. I know you’re not used to it, having grown up without your parents, and…”

Ignis shook his head. It wouldn’t be truthful if he admitted he wasn’t at least a bit overwhelmed—but Prompto’s family was a part of him, a part of the _Prompto_ he loved, and he had promised to stay by his side forever on that cold day in January. “This is my home,” Ignis whispered to him. “Being with you—you’re my home.”

Prompto pressed his forehead hard on his shoulder, trying to hide the redness on his face.

And even though Ignis was the one who dismissed the idea of making out right now, he turned his head and planted a firm kiss on his freckled cheek. Just as he suspected, Prompto immediately went for his lips in return.

He held back for a _full minute_ before climbing onto him, Ignis noticed, as Prompto’s hands tangled in his hair he spent hours styling perfectly today to impress his family. Ignis nestled his arms around his waist, bringing him as close as he could, their chests slotted right against each other’s as they forgot about everything else in the world.

When Prompto pressed his tongue against the seam of his lips, Ignis didn’t pause to think before he parted them. He even let a soft sound out as Prompto took in his bottom lip, the sensitivity from Prompto’s teeth lightly biting down overcoming him—but that only made his boyfriend laugh midway, the giggles bubbling against Ignis’s skin. 

“What?” he asked, putting a bit of air between them to breathe.

Prompto’s face was flushed with his smile, his fairy lights making his dampened lips glisten. “You’re always so needy when you’re nervous,” he said, squeezing the hand he had on Ignis’s cheek. “Imagine what this would be like if we were alone at your apartment instead.”

Ignis kissed him again both as an answer and to shut him up, pressing his lips onto his much harder this time, feeling the breath catch in his throat. Kissed him again, cradling his face in his hands, fingertips under his jaw, their open mouths moving against each other in synchrony, the tiniest noises escaping both of them—

Sudden rapid muffled barking from across the hall broke them apart in an instant. It was soon accompanied by Aranea’s screaming—they heard “Calm down!” over and over and tons of banging and crashes sounding out from her room.

Prompto threw the blanket off them with a quick movement, pouncing up to his feet. “Dad’s home!” he yelled, pulling open his door and running down the stairs, leaving his boyfriend in the middle of a kiss.

Ignis’s heart, once again, leaped up to his throat.

Taking a quick peek at the mirror Prompto had hanging on his closet door, he tried to comb his disheveled hair into something at least presentable before following his boyfriend down the steps at a more cautious pace. He had to abandon hiding the flushness of his cheeks, the moistness of his lips; there wasn’t much time.

Prompto, stood right by the small entrance section, was much worse—his hair was sticking up in all directions, the matching blush he had even more obvious against his paler skin…at least he could blame it on hurrying down.

Should his father ask, what excuse could he utter? There wasn’t a second set of footsteps rushing, nor did he want to be disapproved for (even false) childishness. Ignis pressed his lips taut—hard enough as if it would hide all the signs of what they were doing mere seconds ago. Strategy was something he was meant to be _good_ at—why was every option suddenly failing him now?

And for the second time today, one of Prompto’s family members swung the front door open right in the middle of his thoughts.

Obstacle three: his father, Cor Leonis.

Ignis had known him—or, the idea of him—longer than he had known Prompto. There was a lengthy list of feats and rumours entailing his boyfriend’s father that was often the background noise of Ignis’s youth; he had grown up in the Citadel, after all.

Officially, there was no evidence. Perhaps Cor Leonis had burnt everything regarding the recon mission twenty years ago, to protect the identities of his children. Yet the legend of a Lucian soldier who was said to have rescued two lives from a warring nation’s military faculty matched his timeline seemingly to a fit…however, they were merely rumours, idle office gossip. Ignis didn’t pry, passing them on as mere coincidence. They were not his lives nor his secrets to tell.

What was attested, though, was that Cor Leonis was highly capable. When around Ignis’s age he adopted and raised Aranea and Prompto as a single dad for no reasoning other than out of the goodness of his heart. And in addition to managing to raise two highly accomplished children with an abundance of love and care, Cor served two kings and will serve the current prince, was the Marshal of the Crownsguard, was said to be the kingdom’s best fighter, and was Ignis’s superior.

But stood here, now, crumpled paper bags in his arms and a tired furrow in his brow, he simply looked like an aging father. The deep-set lines in his face seemed harder than ever before, his close-cropped hair tousled and limp.

This was the first time Ignis was meeting him outside of formalities and training—the first time not under his tutelage or seated beside him as an equal, but as his _son’s boyfriend._ As a drop of cold sweat slid down Ignis’s cheek, Cor shut the door with the heel of his boot, nodding once to Prompto before turning his head to the man standing next to him.

He was still in the Crownsguard fatigues he seemed to wear nearly everyday, and it only amplified the intensity he exuded as his gaze met Ignis’s. Ignis watched the small way his lips pulled; an extremely worrying gesture. Was their obviously hidden dispositions easy to look through? But that twitch was gone in an instant, and Cor gave him a curt nod in greeting. “Mr Scientia,” he said, tone flat.

“Marshal Leonis,” Ignis decided a low bow was better than anything else. “Nice…to see you here.” He rose, and gods—he had to hold back his instant regret over his words after he realised what he had just said. It was his damn _house,_ of course he would be here!

Cor fortunately didn’t see the agony Ignis felt under his trained neutral expression, setting the paper bags aside on a dresser to unzip his outdoor boots. “Apologies for this informal meeting,” said Cor as stepped into house slippers. Ignis opened his mouth quick to tell him that no, it was fine, but he promptly spoke again—and made this already bad encounter take a turn for the worse. “I wasn’t aware you also served as the accountant from Prompto’s university, Scientia.”

_No, no, no. Astrals._ He definitely needed a new sense of style. “No, sir,” Ignis said, his composed demeanour being betrayed by the falter of his voice. The flustered blush he willed down was fighting back as he stammered, “I’m his—”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Prompto spoke for him, wrapping his arm around Ignis’s own and entwining his fingers in his to show exactly what they were. “Y’know, Dad…? The one I told you about?”

Cor froze as he stepped up the foundation. “Ah…,” he said, still in that unreadable tone, one foot awkwardly set. “I see.”

Ignis felt his heart hammering in his ears. It seemed the beat was repeating _too early, too early, too early._ He blinked, blinked again as he wielded in another breath to stabilise himself; allowing the anxiety he constantly felt to actually manifest was so, so unlike him.

He took a glance over to Prompto, to try to calm himself…and it only made him ache for his father’s approval even more. 

Everything related to him affected Ignis in a way he couldn’t accurately articulate. Emotion played a bigger role in his life than it had one year ago, now that every moment could affect his future—their _planned_ future—down the line. And what emotion he was feeling right now, Marshal Leonis’s stare piercing into him…

Perhaps it was the unbridled fear of rejection that was making Ignis act irrational and unhinged. Over his life and throughout all his high ambitions, he had dealt with rejection like an old friend, one whose constant visits were unwanted but needed to be fulfilled out of obligation. Those visits were frequent, and before today he liked to believe he had built a sizeable resistance to it.

Yet now that belief was crumbled on the ground, and here he was, gripping onto the palm of the most important person in his life like he was a gentle ocean wave away to losing him forever.

Unsensing of all the emotion Ignis was feeling under his cracking stone facade, Cor only canted his head. He nodded once again at them, words now coming back to him. “Please excuse me,” he said, gripping onto the grocery bags tight. He bumped past Ignis’s shoulder, eyeing their grip as he trailed through the living room and into the kitchen. 

Was that…a hint he didn’t approve of them together? Ignis took a deep breath. He knew it was too soon, he should’ve never accepted—

Prompto made that very breath catch in his throat by pressing his lips close to his ear. “He likes you,” he whispered, rubbing his hand in that calming way once again.

This day was a whirlwind that had no end in sight. He couldn’t see _any_ logic in any of his family’s actions. “I…see,” Ignis muttered, his heart still on overtime. Prompto wouldn’t ever lie to him, he knew that, but the quick back and forth of every emotion he had ever felt still gave him whiplash. “If…you say so.”

Prompto squeezed his hand and then slowly let it go, the absence of his fingertips strangely leaving Ignis feeling cold. “I’m gonna go freshen up and get Nea,” he said to him, grabbing the railings and swinging himself onto the first step of the stairs. “You can stay with my dad in the kitchen, yeah? Maybe help? I’m sure you’ll get along better in there.”

He was looking at him with so much hope, eyes crinkled by a tiny smile…Ignis couldn’t say no. He masked how much he _didn’t_ want to with a nod.

But a step into the lounge only reinforced that that was a mistake. It still was a complete mess from his struggle with Chibi—furniture was knocked out of place, trinkets on the coffee table were on their sides, pillows and blankets strewn on the floor. Cor was at the dining table, back turned, paper crinkling as he unpacked whatever groceries he brought home. If he had any thoughts about the mess he walked into, he kept them to himself.

That silence between them stretched out as he worked, grouping everything by category and slowly shelving them away into the kitchen in batches without a hint of acknowledgement towards Ignis’s presence. Ignis stood there, breath held and extremely aware of the ticking of a faraway clock, daring not to make a move lest he ruin this day even more.

Everything Ignis had learnt about appropriate interaction—all tossed out the window. Past meetings with Cor were light, all textbook formalities and exchanged honorifics, on an _only if necessary_ basis. This was the complete opposite.

There were barely any studies on meeting a significant other’s parent that Ignis had given the time of day. There were especially none about a parent who just happened to be a co-worker more often than not. He took another breath, louder than he would’ve liked; but he had to do _something_ to dwindle the thick tension overcoming the room.

Cor spared a glance back at the sound, face still that hardened expression. He cleared his throat. “Scientia,” he started, in that very same monotone from earlier. Before Ignis could think of every terrible scenario, Cor continued on as he turned back to the table. “Sorry for the harsh greeting. I was taken aback.” A deep breath, a calculated pause. “I wasn’t aware…it was you.”

That was painfully obvious. And as much as he did not want to speak in fear of saying the wrong thing, staying silent was not a friendly gesture either. “I understand,” Ignis chose to reply, tone trained and blunt to not betray the jitter of emotions he now knew all too well.

Quiet, again. But the apology was already settling into his skin; it was the first proof of today that Prompto’s family wasn’t actually put on Eos to be his one weakness. And then moments after, Cor spoke again, voice softer than it had ever been: “I hope you feel at home here.”

Those words—those words were the turning point. They were the only thing he needed to hear; they were the approval he was chasing manifested, and it had finally arrived. 

This time, instead of forcing every emotion he felt under a neutral demeanour, Ignis let the smallest smile shine through.

It wasn’t long before Cor brought up needing help in the kitchen, obviously keen to Ignis’s adept skills, known from Citadel rumours entailing him, too; and Ignis said yes, more than happy for a chance to prove his worth to the father of the man he loved most. He followed him in with the remaining ingredients snug in his arms, falling captivated as he took a step in. After all, it was the first time he’d been in Prompto’s kitchen.

It fit the aesthetic of the Leonises well—tiled peppers on peppered tiles, bright golden lighting, clusters of stuff in nooks and corners but without the cramped or crowded feeling. Ignis saw Cor motion to the vegetable drawer in the fridge; he went and stacked the last carrots and spring onions into it before closing it and the fridge tight, coming face to face with the magnetic door. 

It was covered with pictures. An obvious given with Prompto in the house—but now they had matching magnets and souvenirs paired and holding them up. There were ones with names of theme parks printed across them, ones with foreign cities, even a custom one that bore each of their names. They were pressed against the cluster of pictures that nearly covered the entire fridge panel, holding up countless memories. 

Another smile graced Ignis’s lips as a thought came to mind: perhaps one day he’d be in them, together with them, together with _him_.

He turned to Cor and found the marshal’s eyes trained on his movements. He was leant against a counter, arms crossed and silent, a twinge of something in his brow—uncertainty?

“So…,” Ignis started. “Dinner, sir?” 

Cor straightened up like he was caught in the midst of something, smoothing down the sleeves of his blazer. “I’m…not very good at it,” he said, and that twinge wavered. “But it’s my turn tonight, so I do what I have to.”

He was as nervous as Ignis felt and was hiding it down the exact same way—under the masks they wore during council meetings and assemblies. The thought brought Ignis solace, allowing his voice to be steady for the next question: “What’s the plan?”

“Haven’t thought of that yet.” Cor shrugged, letting out a small, impatient huff. It felt strange—Ignis had never seen him make such uncalculated moves before. At the Citadel, he was the perfect picture of willpower and holding back emotions, but now… “I simply buy what those two tell me to get,” he admitted, pressing his lips together, brows furrowed, making a display of thinking it through.

Despite the awkwardness, Ignis felt a pinch in his chest. This was exactly how conversations between parents and boyfriends went; he was happy for the normality,, happy for their Citadel statuses being left behind, for the show of the people they were underneath. Here they were just normal people—just the parent, and the boyfriend.

It didn’t take long until Ignis managed to salvage something healthy and quick to make from all the ingredients Cor had bought. He cleared off a counter to set down a cutting board, peeling and chopping up vegetables to boil. Cor seemed to be grateful to him for taking the lead, and he constantly offered to take up a task once Ignis had demonstrated how to go about with it.

And…working in the kitchen quietly, the minutes passing quick, Ignis soon felt himself again. Cooking was his element, after all. There was idle chit-chat with Cor as he stirred lean grounded meat around the pot, conversing about the cooling weather and city events happening within the month. 

_This is actually going well,_ Ignis thought with a warmth in his chest when there was a lull in their conversation. It wasn’t quite as planned, but still, well.

But that, however, was a tad too early. Like if he was clued on to his thoughts, the next moment out of nowhere Cor looked straight at him and asked: “How long have you been dating my son?”

The question stunned Ignis, nearly freezing him in his movement. He faltered a spin, narrowly missing brushing his finger against the burning iron of the pot. “Since—since the fourth of January, sir.” He brought his hand back to a safe distance, and he continued at a more cautious pace. “Ten months ago.”

The follow up left him no time to breathe. “How did you meet each other?”

So the dreaded parental interrogation that every boyfriend had to go through finally reared its head. At the least, it weren’t questions about their positions, and still part of normality. Ignis cleared his throat and spoke the truth. “Through His Highness—Noctis—back in high-school.”

“Four years ago?”

“Correct.”

Cor paused the questioning at that, bringing his knife again and again through a carrot without another word. Perhaps he was running through the facts, seeing if they lined up…and seemingly accepting them, he nodded, a new question equipped. “Are you two…being inti—”

There was a bang from the living room—thank the astrals—that cut his question short. Ignis whipped his head up towards the archway and caught a glimpse of Aranea’s grey hair peeking from behind a couch.

“I think you should take a break,” Cor said to him when Ignis turned his attention back, fortunately leaving whatever question he had behind. He tapped the top of the oven, the thirty minute timer blinking as he typed it in. “I can handle the rest—simply set the potatoes over everything else and bake…?” 

Ignis mixed everything into a pan before leaving, deciding only having the oven timer to look after was the best option for him. He moved quickly, should the questioning start again, taking four plates and utensils in his arms as he left with a nod and stepped back into the living room.

It was a bit cleaner now, with furniture moved back into their designated places. No doubt where that bang came from.

Aranea’s gaze drifted up towards him as he padded over the wooden floor. “Ah, Four-eyes,” she called out as he placed ceramic against wood, leaning on her arms draped over the back of the sofa to watch him work. “Still here, huh?” She tilted her head with a smirk. “I thought you left.”

Ignis ignored the obvious taunt, focused on straightening forks and knives. “Where’s Prompto?” he asked without a waver. Strange, especially without his boyfriend around, how that unbridled fear he had of her earlier today no longer had purchase anymore, dwindled down to only the small heightened sense he had around everyone who wasn’t in his inner circle. Was it because she essentially saved him from a line of questioning he knew he did not want to answer?

“Depositing Chibi at Luna’s for the night, since _someone’s_ presence makes her so agitated,” Aranea said, clicking her tongue. “And jeez, this place is a mess. What were you two doing down here?”

Ignis looked back. She was squinting at everything she hadn’t fixed into place yet, the knocked over trinkets and empty bottles and the like. “As you said,” he replied, “Chibi.”

Done with the table set up, he threaded again through the tight living room, easing himself down on the plush leather of Prompto’s sofa—a respectful enough distance away from her. The coffee table covered with old paperbacks and papers laid between them, separating them from what was now quickly becoming a staring contest.

The tips of Aranea’s hair were still wet, brushing against her shoulders. She had changed into something more comfortable—a loose white shirt with a pattern of sylleblossom petals splayed across it and thick, grey sweatpants. He recognised the shirt as one of Luna’s, one she often chose to don at late game nights and sleepovers at Noct’s.

And despite her snarky remarks moments ago, she looked much softer than before. Her eyebrows were resting neutral and there were no more pointed expressions aimed toward him; but her eyes flicked across him, still indisputably judging him, and her lips slowly twisted up in a smile. 

“What is it?” Ignis asked.

She simply stared longer at him longer until she was satisfied, leaning back onto the plush fabric of her sofa. “Out of all people…,” she started, tilting her head at him and widening her smile. “Out of all people, it’s you, huh? The advisor to the future king and all.”

There was something in her gaze that clarified that she wasn’t only talking about Prompto. And as vague as it was, Ignis understood. “I thought you were aware.”

“I _thought_ you were just a friend of his who happened to be really touchy. Like the rest of them.” She wrinkled her nose, but the smile never left her. “Tight-knit group, you are.”

Ignis pursed his lips, taking mock offence.

“But,” she tossed her head to the other side, hair swaying with her. “You’re kinda alright, I guess. I’m glad it’s you. You treat my brother well. And…,” she leant over and dropped her voice to barely above a whisper, to make sure Cor wouldn’t overhear. “Out of everyone, you’d understand. You’d keep him safe.”

There was a hint of sadness in her green eyes. Eyes that did not match the rest of her family’s. She was six years older than Prompto—seven when that rumoured incident happened. Of course she would’ve had a sliver of a memory of it. Maybe it was the main reason Luna and her were inclined to each other, having known life under the same empire, trusting each other to keep that secret safe.

Aranea crossed a leg over the other. “Does he know?”

“No,” Ignis shook his head, matching her hushed tone. “Not that I’m aware of.”

This seemed to satisfy her, as the tilted smile came back. “Good. Keep it that way.” 

And then that conversation was over. She acted like they had finished speaking about something mundane, looking over the picture frames above Ignis’s head, a small tune being hummed under her breath. He watched her eyes precariously, uncertain on what to do or to speak about next; but suddenly, he watched her gaze dip towards him. Towards his pocket. “Your phone,” she nodded.

“What?”

“Your pocket lit up.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Must be that tight-knit friend group of yours, right?” She pulled out her own phone out of her sweatpants and swiped it open, immediately starting to tap in a message. He didn’t need to guess to who.

Ignis reached for his own phone, too. To be honest, he’d completely he forgotten he had brought it with him, having been too caught up in the whirlwind that was the Leonis family. Aranea was right—popped up over his lock screen background of leaves in the fall was several new messages in their group chat. He swiped it open with his forefinger.

**Gladiolus Amicitia [18:07]**  
How’s it going  
Noct’s here hounding me asking if you’re discussing wedding plans yet  
He’s too lazy to pick up his phone

**Ignis Scientia [18:08]**  
Ha. Better than before  
Got stared down by his sister the moment I arrived. Attacked by Chibi again  
And nearly got asked a very personal question by his father

**Lunafreya Nox Fleuret [20:09]**  
nea said she was only messing with you!  
shes the tough love kinda type :>

**Noctis Lucis Caelum [20:09]**  
what kinda question huh  
smth weird?  
told you id win the bet

**Gladiolus Amicitia [20:10]**  
I told you not to tell them abt that  
I’m kicking you out of the gc

**Ignis Scientia [20:10]**  
I’ll ignore that  
Prompto’s dropping off Chibi at yours right now, Luna. Have you seen him?

**Lunafreya Nox Fleuret [20:11]**  
Chibi’s right here!  
when I learn how to send pictures on this phone it’s over  
prom left a few minutes ago >:0

**Prompto Argentum [20:12]**  
i definitely didnt use that as an excuse so you could talk to my sister for a while :D :D  
so all good??? no more glaring at each other???

**Ignis Scientia [20:12]**  
Prompto!!! Where are you now?  
Dinner is soon

**Prompto Argentum [20:12]**  
ill be back in a min  
:D :D :D

**Noctis Lucis Caelum [20:13]**  
keep it in ur private messages plz

With a small huff at Noct’s last message, Ignis got up to his feet, slipping his phone back into his trousers pocket. He took a glance back, moving between the sofa and coffee table back to open space—and as if on cue, he heard the front door swing wide open.

Prompto kicked his shoes off with a loud sound and stepped up the landing into view, flailing his arms around in something reminiscent of a wave. “Missed me?” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it back into the entryway without a regard for where it landed, padding into the lounge.

Aranea took an uninterested glimpse towards him and then promptly looked back to her phone. “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“I was asking him, not you.” Prompto stuck his tongue out to her; an action that obviously went unseen. He turned his attention back to his boyfriend, and his small frown from getting no attention lifted into a smile. “Iggy,” he drawled, patting his boyfriend’s shoulder and slowly running his hand down his forearm, “better now, huh?”

Even Aranea in the midst of her acting couldn’t ignore the way his tone dipped sensually. “ _Please_ don’t start making out,” she rolled her eyes, setting her phone aside and crossing her arms, glaring at them to make sure they wouldn’t do anything. “You were so _loud_ up there.”

Her brother didn’t heed her words, wrapping his arms around Ignis’s waist and pushing them both onto the couch.

Ignis found himself pinned between cushions and Prompto’s face snuggling into his sweater vest, leg straddling him and the other dangling off the couch. Aranea stood up, immediately launching into a tirade of how gross they were being, and Prompto spoke over her, trying to convince her that this was _normal hugging_ and not hinting at anything at all.

Here they were, bickering over him again…but unlike when he first arrived, there was no more fear in his heart, no more regrets, no more urges to drop everything and run away. Ignis couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from his throat, stopping them both short in their heated words; the room fell silent.

Prompto looked down to him, eyes widened. “You good, Iggy?”

“Yes,” Ignis managed out as the laughter dwindled down, blinking away a small tear in the corner of his eye. They were still staring at him, looking for an explanation, and it took him all effort to hold back another laugh as he admitted: “I’m—happy.”

It stunned both Leonis siblings. And then Prompto laughed too, taking his cheeks in his hands and kissing his forehead and cheeks again and again, smile blooming on his own face. “I told you,” he said, taking Ignis’s hands and squeezing them, pulling him back up to a decent position, much to Aranea’s relief. “I told you coming here would be fun.”

**Lunafreya Nox Fleuret [20:22]**  
nea told me to tell you to stop making out  
in front of her even??? you guys!!! chill >:0

**Ignis Scientia [20:25]**  
not my fault my bfs so hot

**Noctis Lucis Caelum [20:26]**  
get off his phone u weirdo

**Ignis Scientia [20:27]**  
;) ;*  
That wasn’t me!!!  
WE WEREN’T MAKING OUT!!!!!!

It was not long after when the timer dinged and Cor left the kitchen with a big square bowl held between pink oven mitts, placing it in the middle of the table and announcing that dinner was ready. The three of them shut their phones and made their way to the dining table, Aranea taking a chair near the wall and Ignis sitting by Prompto’s side.

Ignis’s glasses fogged up from the rising steam as Prompto immediately dug into dinner; Cor had brought it out the moment it had finished, allowing it no time to cool. “What is this?” He heard Aranea question as the fog slowly subsided, watching her brother help himself to quite a bit more than a quarter. “Never seen you make this before.”

Cor had returned with a pitcher of ice cold water, pouring glasses for the four of them. “Scientia— _Ignis_ —made it,” he answered, giving Ignis a small nod at the correction. Ignis had to keep himself from smiling. Cor sat himself down at the head of the dining table, pulling his chair up close. “Frankly, I’m not sure myself. But it looks good at the very least.”

“It _is_ good,” Prompto said, muffled. He was already several bites in, speaking through his food. “It’s cottage pie, I think.” A pause to swallow, and another bite. “Sometimes he makes it for me and my friends at sleepovers.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Aranea chided him. And yet as expected, this only made Prompto want to do the complete opposite, taking another bite and gearing up a scream. Cor fortunately put a stop to it with a hand up between them with no other words.

Ignis had never experienced a dinner this rowdy, even during those aforementioned sleepovers. The last proper family one he had experienced was one at Gladio’s, and the most scandalous thing that happened then was him dropping his fork. 

And, here…he looked to see Aranea and Prompto _still_ trading glares and Cor sat between them, a tired lilt to his lips. He was able to break them apart for good this time with a clear of his throat before speaking once again.

“I’d like to say a thanks to our guest tonight—first and foremost for not causing a scene, unlike _two_ here,” he said, gaze shifting between both his children before landing on Ignis. “Secondly, for this recipe. I’ve no doubt it will be added to our regular repertoire.”

Prompto nodded heartily in agreement, cheeks puffed with food. Ignis’s own cheeks tinged with pink. He knew he was skilled—he worked hard to be—and was used to compliments on his cooking from their inner circle, but never from someone outside, never from someone he wanted deeply to impress. 

“Thirdly,” Cor said, allowing a sip from his glass of cold water before continuing. “For treating Prompto well these past ten months. I’ve always wondered what was the cause for his newfound happiness this year…and turns out, he’d been passing me by in the halls of the Citadel daily.” 

That slight blush on Ignis’s cheeks soon bloomed red. From the embarrassment, from the praise, from the acceptance. He spared a glance towards Prompto—who was looking at him too, lips pulled into a toothy smile that crinkled his eyes. And then Prompto leant over, rubbing his forehead into Ignis’s shoulder in affection, no doubt feeling the same pride.

Even though her eyes shined at their display, truly happy for them, Aranea couldn’t help but be snark and wave her fork after a few seconds. “All done? Can we eat now?”

With everyone joining in and the dinner officially starting, Prompto continued his meal at a slower pace, much to Ignis’s (and Aranea’s) relief.

And despite what he’d expected earlier this afternoon, Ignis found that there was no more awkwardness. There was only a chorus of forks and knives clinking against plates, filling in the gaps in their lengthy conversations. They touched on subjects all four of them had experience in, to not leave anyone out—college and classes, Crownsguard training, looks behind to their pasts and their ambitions for the future.

They spoke about Chibi, about the rainy morning Prompto found her nearly ten years ago, about the way she seemingly never aged a day since then. They spoke about how Cor only learnt of her presence in the household a month after Prompto first took her into his arms, who hid her under desks and in closets whenever anyone visited his room.

“The day he found out was a scary one,” Prompto was saying, pushing around the last tidbits of roasted vegetables on his plate, too full to eat anymore. “He told me I had three days to get rid of her. And then it took only eight hours for him to fall in love…she even slept beside him on his bed that night!” He brought a hand up to his forehead, feigning a faint. “I felt _so_ betrayed.”

Cor laughed. He’d laughed at everything, every story told; everytime any of his children spoke his eyes lit up in interest and in pride. As the hour passed, the cold, steely first impression Ignis had of him melted away. It was no more wonder to him why these two were the most important people in Prompto’s life.

Halfway through dinner, Cor left to brew a pot of coffee, citing a late night full of close deadlines as the reason. Prompto snaked his hand around Ignis’s the moment he stepped out of view, squeezing it tightly, as if trying to convey all his love through it. “Good, right?” Prompto nudged him, grinning wide. “I told you it’d go good.”

“Indeed,” Ignis agreed. He squeezed back. “I admit—you were right.”

Aranea let them have the moment unbothered, pulling out her phone to check something; she even lowered her eyes to allow them some privacy when Prompto went in for a peck on the lips. As the night grew long, weariness took first hold of her, and her usual jokes and remarks became small hums and tilted nods.

She set her phone down and took a sip of water, slightly shaking her head as if to wake herself up. “I was wondering,” she said, breaking their gaze apart. “Are you staying the night, Specs? It’s getting kinda late.”

Ignis truly hadn’t thought of it, but it seemed to be the best thing. He lived in the heart of the city far from the suburbs, too far to drive and return before midnight. Yet before he or Prompto could reply, Cor reappeared in the archway with a mug of coffee in his hand. 

“Thinking of a sleepover?” he said, his blazer and skull-covered vest were forgone, the thin, black shirt the only remnant of his Crownsguard fatigues. He looked younger, the hard lines inset on his face now softened. He pulled his chair back, lifting up his mug to Aranea as an offering if she wished for it, but she only shook her head.

“Maybe, I guess,” Prompto shrugged. With one last squeeze, he let go of Ignis’s hand and scratched the back of his neck. Ignis could tell he was embarrassed, despite their earlier hugging session in the same bed. Likely the thought of sleeping with his boyfriend in such close proximity to his family was making him second-guess. Who knew what compromising positions they could potentially walk in to?

Cor spinned a spoon through his cup of steaming coffee. “You’ve said you had sleepovers before, with Ignis and the others?”

“Yeah,” Prompto answered. “We’ve had a few at Noct’s and Gladio’s, and even at Luna’s.”

Ignis had the worrisome suspicion about where this conversation was going. He nudged Prompto’s knee with his own to warn him, but—

Cor continued before either of them could deflect. “Had any…of you two…alone?” 

This—and maybe the addition of Aranea’s piercing glare, who had obviously gone through the same thing the first time she brought Luna home—flipped the switch in Prompto’s head. Ignis felt him tense up beside him as he tried to stammer up an answer that wasn’t an easily seen through lie or the incriminating truth.

Across, Ignis heard Aranea slam her fork down, the grip around it knuckle white. “Dad. Astrals above.” Her face was twisted into a scorn, trying to draw all attention away from her brother, and succeeding. “Why’d you have to ask this at _dinner?_ ”

Cor’s gaze flicked towards her and raised a brow, but otherwise he did not move. “I’m a concerned father. It’s my job.”

Ignis closed his eyes and took a breath as he shifted in his chair. Any more silence, and that would’ve been an answer in itself. “No,” he spoke for Prompto, for himself, his voice the softest it had been today. “No, we haven’t,” he repeated, louder and unwavering, to assure himself—and Cor—that it was the truth. And it was. They’ve never ventured past open-mouthed kisses and shirtless cuddles, as much as Prompto wanted to.

The room fell silent with his admission. Ignis dared not stare anywhere else than the wafting steam from Cor’s coffee mug. It was becoming nigh unbearable when Cor finally spoke again: “Good.” Then a breath, and an agonising long sip of coffee. “...Stay safe. If you ever find yourself in need of—”

“ _Dad!_ ” Aranea pushed herself up, chair skittering behind her. She covered her face with both her hands, trying to will herself to disappear. “Oh my gods, stop.” She shook her head, pushing past Cor, flicking his elbow lightly in annoyance. “I’m going to bed. I don’t want to be part of this conversation.”

What Ignis didn’t catch, despite the tenseness of the situation: the layer of humour. The moment Aranea turned the corner he heard her have to swallow down a chuckle as stairs creaked with her steps. Beside him, Prompto stifled a snort—a snort that became a full-blown laugh as soon as Aranea’s door was shut upstairs. 

And to Ignis’s left, Cor couldn’t help a smile overcoming his features, too. In that moment he looked like the man Ignis had heard he once was—the rowdy boy he was in his youth, who challenged immortals and got into countless fights—even with the then crown prince—just for the sake of it. He was messing with him now, Ignis realised, not out of the misplaced anger he was made known for or any other nefarious reason…it was all for fun. 

And Ignis let a small laugh escape him, too. This was what having a family was meant to truly feel like. He’d went his nearly whole life without having one to fall back on, relying on nobody but himself—until the day Noctis brought his blond, too-smiley classmate back home, who strangely and constantly insisted Ignis join them whenever there was a new place to visit or game to play.

It was because of Prompto that Ignis learnt there was more than life than duty. Because of him he had found family in their group of friends, bonds tighter than any oaths could form. Because of him—he now had two, with the most important person in his life in both.

“You’re always welcome to stay the night here, Ignis,” Cor said to him, leaning back into the chair and taking hold of his coffee, half-lifting it in something reminiscent of a toast before draining the last sip. “And you’re fully aware, Prompto,” he nodded to his son. “You’re an adult, and you can make your own decisions. You and your friends are certainly free to stay overnight here whenever. Just warn me and your sister ahead of time.”

Prompto’s smile slightly faded. “Ah, I know, I know, but I don’t want to annoy you both…” 

“You don’t, ever.” Cor leant over, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. “Prompto, you’re my son. I’d support you with anything, even if it’s something like marrying the hand to the future king.”

Ignis’s fingers go slack as Cor gave him an approving nod of the head. And—was that a wink? He felt his cheeks warm once again, but he paid it no mind, too fully focused on the tears that were forming in Prompto’s eyes beside him.

And…he watched a smile slowly grace his boyfriend’s lips, wider than he’d ever seen before. Watched those tears fall as his chair scooted back and he wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders. “Thank you,” Ignis heard Prompto say. “For everything.”

Cor ruffled the blond of his hair, hugging him back. “Don’t mention it.”

Prompto’s grin was still there when they parted, and his blue eyes were shining when he turned them back towards Ignis. He nudged his dad with his elbow. “How’d you know I wanted to marry him?”

“Seen the way you look at him,” Cor elbowed him back. “I wouldn’t mind having a son-in-law.”

That warmth from Ignis’s cheeks had never left and was now threatening to spread to his entire face. “Excuse me, I’m right here,” he managed out—and then Prompto took hold of his wrist, giving him his own, tight embrace. And, strangely…it felt different than the countless usual hugs they’ve had before. 

It felt reminiscent of that night on a sweltering June day, the day he first brought up the idea of marriage in the far future. He was sure that Prompto would laugh at him, saying that they were young and it was way too early to be even thinking about it. But to his surprise, he had smiled and wrapped his arms around him as tight as he was now, whispering to him that he wanted nothing more.

Ignis’s hand settled on Prompto’s waist and held him as close as he could, eyes falling closed as tucked his head into his shoulder, breathing in his scent, focusing back on the now. And as his own tears fell from his eyes, he realised there was something to look forward to other than marriage in the far future. 

He thought back to the pictures on the fridge, back to the way Aranea smiled as she said she was glad it was him, back to the words exchanged moments before. He’d never entertained the thought before, being so sure that Prompto’s family wouldn’t approve of him. But here he was. He couldn’t yet fathom what it truly meant, but he knew that the following weeks—especially the coming holiday season—would not be spent alone.

It was a strange feeling, having gained an entirely new family in the span of a few hours. 

As the night grew on, Cor made him promise to join them for another dinner the same day next week and to send along the invitation to Luna. He asked Ignis to drop a recipe by if he could, stating he doubted Aranea and Prompto would ever stomach his cooking willingly again since they’d had this taste of heaven. Prompto chuckled, saying he’s been having heaven for years, but would now _definitely_ kick up a fuss now that he’d mentioned it.

Cor soon left to clean out everything in the kitchen, leaving Prompto and Ignis to get ready for bed. Prompto tugged him through the lounge and into the entryway, slipping his arms under his as he pulled him into another sensual hug. He said nothing during the moment, resting his head on Ignis’s heart, fingers tangling in the knitted wool of his sweater vest.

“I love you,” Prompto breathed, lifting up his head to meet his eyes. “More than anything.”

They shared a long, firm, silent kiss before Ignis whispered his reply: “I love you, too.”

This might've been the happiest he had ever felt.

* * *

Cor lent Ignis worn out clothes from his early Crownsguard days to sleep in, saying that driving an hour and back into the heart of the city probably wasn’t a good idea this late at night. Aranea thrust a new toothbrush and a spare towel for tomorrow into his arms when he passed her by in the hall, murmuring something about how she and Cor would have to leave early and that they would have the entire house to themselves by morning.

He shared the bathroom mirror with Prompto as they freshened up for bed together, who bumped his hip with his every time he took too much of the reflection away from him. It wasn’t long until Ignis was at the end of his patience and smeared mint-blue foam across Prompto’s cheek in retaliation, starting a mini water fight that ended with his back against the wall in a minty kiss and a need for another change of clothes.

They found Cor setting up a spare mattress next to Prompto’s bed when they returned to his room, and Ignis accepted it and thanked him to alleviate his worries. The moment he left, seeing them a good enough distance apart and shutting the door with a goodnight, Prompto tugged Ignis’s arm and pulled him on top of him. His forehead accidentally crashed on the headboard, loud enough that Chibi could’ve heard it down the street. But even with their (barely) subdued childish giggling over it and the loud rustling of blankets as they settled next to each other, neither Cor nor Aranea interrupted this time. 

It was not long until they forgot they weren’t the only people in the world.

Ignis’s beating heart steadied as the hour grew long, as he, once again, got used to the feeling of Prompto pressed up against his side. He wasn’t tired, and it seemed Prompto wasn't too—he was more interested in tracing the lines of Ignis’s face, pressing kisses in the curves often unseen under his neck. Now, his fingertips was fiddling with the hem of Ignis’s shirt, teasing a lift…and in a move unparalleled, he pulled his hand back.

“Doesn’t feel right, since you’re wearing my dad’s clothes,” he huffed, setting his hand upon Ignis’s chest instead.

As midnight neared and they ran out of things to discuss about the day, dreariness made its first appearance. Prompto turned his attention to the pictures resting on the walls to keep his eyes open. He pointed at every one, recounting a memory for each in a hushed, tired voice. Ignis listened intently, absentmindedly rubbing circles into his waist, humming support and his own commentary into his shoulder.

It was after Prompto slowly recounted a picture of them together high up in a ferris wheel his eyelids fell closed. Immediately he was asleep, breaths falling into a steady rhythm, soft sighs escaping him every time he exhaled. Ignis pressed a light kiss to his cheek, adjusting his nestled arms around him to a more comfortable position for both of them. 

Sleep was not as easy for him. In the dim glow of Prompto’s fairy lights, he watched his boyfriend’s chest rise and fall, tucking strands of blond hair away whenever they went astray. 

He looked up to the collage of pictures, at the ones had Prompto spoke of, the ones he’d experienced, the ones he had yet to learn about. And as midnight flashed and passed on the table clock, the weariness of the day caught up with him, finally shutting his eyes for good tonight.

Ignis fell asleep with Prompto in his arms and a thought on his mind: There was the entire future ahead of them.

**Author's Note:**

> i've been working on this for so long i'm not sure how i feel about it, but thank you so much for reading regardless!!


End file.
